


those six days

by bartallen



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Batfamily Feels, Depression, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, Yikes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bartallen/pseuds/bartallen
Summary: It is warm in the apartment, he knows it is, but he still feels a coldness surrounding him as he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to come.
 
 
  This is the last time I’m going to fall asleep in this bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **reminder:** please mind the tags! i'd hate for you to get triggered. nothing goes into much depth, but it's there, it's mentioned, it happens. please be careful.

**tuesday**

 Jason wonders if he had been that much of a smartass when he had been eleven years old.

_Probably not. There can only be one of this kid._

“I am the _one true son_ of the Bat, it is _my_ job to watch the building.”

Jason resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Listen, kid-“

“I am _not_ a kid-“ Damian starts but Jason just grins.

“You are _eleven_ years old, you aren’t even prepubertal yet,” Jason cheerfully reminds him.

“Shut the fuck up, Todd,” Damian growls.

Jason lets out an offended gasp, because _how dare he_ , and also _did he just hear him right?_

“Don’t fucking swear.”

He grabs the binoculars out of the kid’s hands and watches the building himself. 

“Father will be back any minute,” Damian scolds him, trying to reach the binoculars but being too short. “If he finds out that you’ve been-“

Jason tunes out the rest of Damian’s rant and tries to think back to the last real conversation he had with Bruce. Not the simple "Good job, Hood." or "Watch your back, B.” during patrols but a real proper conversation. 

He thinks it was back at the manor, when Jason had come over because Dick had asked him to. It had been Alfred's birthday and even Jason was an enough decent human being to not say no to that. Not when Alfred had done so much for Jason.

After the cake was served Bruce had come over and put his hand on Jason's shoulder. 

"I'm glad that you came," he had said and Jason remembers hating himself for getting that joyous feeling in his stomach whenever Bruce talked to him like he mattered.

He hates himself for craving that touch.

_Stop it._

He needs to leave before he says something stupid in front of Bruce.

He throws the binoculars in Damian’s hands and does so.

-

When he gets home, it’s one in the morning, but he isn’t particularly tired yet. Hungry, however, he very much is. 

Opening his fridge and finding it empty, he sighs before closing the door again. 

The thought of stepping outside again makes him sick, so he angrily punches the fridge instead. 

  “Fuck,” he swears loudly, not caring if the whole complex woke up from it.

 He punches the fridge once more for good measure, before he steps away.

 Something on the door catches his attention.

The picture that is fixed on the door with an old magnet is over a year old. He doesn't remember it being taken but he remembers how he felt when he saw Roy putting the picture of them on the fridge.

_Things did not hurt so much with Roy,_ he thinks.

_Light up, Jaybird,_ Roy would always say. _There's only so much that can go wrong._

Jason remembers pushing Roy away, telling him no over and over again, hurting him with his words until the redhead finally listened and left.

_I did this to myself._

He throws the picture away and goes to bed.

-

 

**wednesday**

Dick calls him repeatedly. He does not get up from the bed to check his phone but he knows it’s Dick that makes the flat vibrate because only Dick would call this many times in an hour. He knows that it’s nothing too important though, because if it was his brother would be climbing in through the window instead of bothering with calls. He is probably leaving dozens of voice messages on his phone right now.   Jason can’t bring himself to care. He tried getting out of bed this morning but his head was hurting him and he had woken up with his back soaked with sweat due to his nightmare and all he’d done was get rid of his shirt before climbing back under the blanket. 

He doesn’t know what time it is and he realizes that it doesn’t matter. He won’t be getting out of bed today. The first time he had missed patrol he had wondered if anyone would get suspicious if he didn’t show, but nobody had said anything.

_How many days would it take them to notice I was dead again?_

Sweat drips from his forehead. His hands start shaking under the covers so he pushes them under his thighs to make them stop. 

His palms get sweatier by every second and his heart is already beating too fast.

_I can’t breathe._

All he wants to do is go back to sleep, but his damn phone won’t stop vibrating.

Everything becomes too much: it’s too hot but he cannot bring himself to lose the blankets, because the blanket is safe.

_When did I become so pathetic?_

He sees how much it hurts Bruce to even look at him sometimes: the way his shoulders tense, his eyebrows pinch together and his usually blank expression turns somber.

_It hurts him to look at me because he failed me. Was it not the other way around? Did I not fail him?_

He does not get out of bed that day.

 

**thursday**

Talking to Tim is easy, Jason realizes. He doesn't have to put that much effort into coming up with things to say because the younger boy seems to know how to keep a conversation going. He's smart, too, of course he is, but he knows not to ask too many questions when it comes to Jason.

"Do you want waffles?" Tim asks one night after they successfully stopped a couple from robbing a jewelry store. 

They are sitting on the roof of the building across the street, watching the police put handcuffs on the two thieves. The man is crying while the woman is facing the other direction, rolling her eyes for the fifth time since the first officer stepped out of the car. 

"Are you asking me out on a date, Replacement?"

"Gross." Tim makes a face and pulls out his phone from his belt. "Do you want waffles or not? I know Dick still hasn't finished making them, but Steph is going over there right now and..."

Jason tunes out because he needs a few seconds to think about what has been said. This is not the first time one of them invited him to one of their weird meet-ups. Ever since things have been calmer between them, they have been reaching out. If Jason decided to accept Tim’s offer, he knows exactly how it was going to be like. Steph and Dick are going to be there and he would not be surprised if Cass decided to show up as well, because recently she was wherever Steph was too. 

Jason swallows. The worst part is that he wants to go. Deep inside he wants to go, he wants to eat waffles or whatever Dick is making, he wants to see Cass again because the last time he has seen her has been to long ago _(She's your sister. You always wanted a sister when you were little.)_ But Jason also knows that bonding means no good, at least not for him. Whenever he gets too close, he can't control himself. Someone is bound to get hurt, not necessarily with actions, but with words because that is what Jason is best at. 

_I cannot help how I feel. I’m just so angry all the time._

Tim is looking at him curiously and Jason notices that he has stopped talking and is waiting for an answer. 

Jason grins. "Nah. Not today."

Tim raises his eyebrow and sends him a look that is probably supposed to mean something. 

"Another time, then."

Jason nods.

"Another time. Maybe I'll even come to the manor soon."

Tim's mouth twitches a little bit.

On the ground, the police cars are driving away. 

"Sounds great."

Without another word, Jason leaves the roof.

-

Back at his place, he shrugs his clothes off and steps into the shower for five minutes to rinse the dirt off. 

Not bothering with food, he dresses himself quickly and puts his guns away where they belong.

He turns off the light before walking carefully over to his bed. He remembered his mother’s voice guiding him over to their shared bed when he used to be scared in the dark. 

_Just follow my voice, Jay,_ she would say and Jason would snuggle into her arms as soon as he touched the old mattress. Falling asleep had been easier, then, even with the scary possibility of his father coming home in the night. 

 Now he snuggles into his pillow, pulling the white sheets closer around himself. The bed suddenly feels too big for one person.

He thinks back to when Roy used to sleep next to him, his smaller body pressed tightly against him, his red hair brushing him in the face in the middle of the night because the archer could not lay still. Unwillingly Jason’s left hand reaches out to where the spot is empty right now. He misses being close to Roy.

 It is warm in the apartment, he knows it is, but he still feels a coldness surrounding him as he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to come.

_This is the last time I’m going to fall asleep in this bed._

 

**friday**

When Jason wakes up on Friday, he feels more lighthearted than he has in months.

He doesn’t bother with breakfast, but takes a shower instead before dressing in a dark jeans and grey shirt. He even puts on shoes and brushes his hair. Then he tidies his apartment, which he hadn’t done in the past week at all.   He checks if every room is clean, and then he checks again.

 When he is sure everything is as it’s supposed to be, he takes a deep breath before grabbing a gun from his hiding space behind his wardrobe.

He checks if it’s loaded (he knows it is, he had loaded it the day before) and places it on his desk in the kitchen.

 He pulls the chair from the desk and sits down, the gun in front of him. 

He doesn’t know how long he is staring at it without doing anything.

_Just grab it, idiot._

He grabs the gun.

_Release the safety catch._  

He releases the safety catch.

_Raise the gun and point it at your head._

With shaking hands, he raises the gun and points it at his right temple.

He feels the tip of the gun slipping away from the sweat on his forehead.

_No guns no guns no guns no guns._

 Batman’s voice in his head is the last thing he wants right now, but all he can hear are those two words over and over again. How many times had Bruce scolded him with those very words.

He chokes back a sob and drops the gun on the table. 

“Fuck,” he yells. 

He notices his phone vibrating in the bedroom, but he blends it out.

“Fuck,” he says again.

 He takes a few calming breaths and runs his shaking fingers through his hair. 

Feeling trapped and anxious, he gets up from the table and goes straight to the bathroom.

Despite the fact that he is alone, he locks the door behind him and leans on the sink.   He watches his own reflection for less than two seconds before looking down again.

_Why can’t I do anything right?_

He splashes water in his own face. 

“Get a fucking grip, Todd,” he whispers.

He opens one of the cabinets under the sink and grabs what he is looking for.

_I cannot fix myself by hurting others._

He tried doing that and it had turned out to be one of his greatest mistakes. 

_I’m broken and I cannot be fixed._

He adjusts the razor in his hand.

  _This is the only way._

 

**friday afternoon**

“Bruce.”

Dick is crying.  

This is the first thing Bruce notices as soon as he picks up the phone.

 Dick is _never_ crying.

“What happened?”   He is already getting up from his desk and grabs his jacket from the chair on his way out of his office.

Dick doesn’t answer but mumbles something to someone else Bruce can’t understand.

  “Dick!”

“Bruce, you have to come, please, I-“ 

Dick starts crying again and Bruce feels his chest tighten. He doesn’t even know what is going on yet, but Dick is _crying_ and that can’t be a good sign.

“Dick, where are you? I’m on my way to the car, just tell me where you are and I’ll come.”

“I’m at Jason’s apartment. God, Bruce…”  

Bruce stops in his tracks; his heart skips a beat.

 “Is he alright?”

 Dick chokes back a sob.

  “Dick, tell me-“ 

“There’s so much blood and I-”

Someone else’s voice is in the background now, a female voice that is telling Dick to hang up the phone.

  “Dick!”

“Please just come!”

Dick hangs up.

The way from the manor to Jason’s apartment is 20 minutes.

  Bruce makes it in 8.

 

**saturday**

 

Jason wakes up with a terrible headache, a painful throbbing at both of his wrists and Bruce Wayne at his bedside.

He hates all three of these things and wishes that for once in his life he had succeeded at something.

Bruce, being the greatest detective of all times, notices as soon as Jason stirs.

“Does anything hurt?,” is the first thing he asks, because Bruce has the emotional range of a potato.   

“Everything,” Jason answers because he is sick of lies.

  “I’ll get Leslie,” Bruce gets up to leave the room, but Jason shakes his head.   “No.” 

Bruce halts in his movement and sits down again, his gaze on Jason.   He falters for a second when he sees Jason is on the verge of tears.  


 “Jay-“

“Shut up,” Jason whispers.   He turns his head.

Bruce doesn’t say anything until Jason falls asleep again.

-

When Jason wakes up the next time, it’s not Bruce but Dick who is sitting at his bedside.

Jason doesn’t talk, and for the first time Dick doesn’t make him. He just keeps looking at him, which Jason doesn’t feel himself minding that much.  


 -

A lot of things happen that Jason doesn’t remember much of. He drifts in and out of consciousness for hours and sometimes he cannot be sure if some talks did happen or not.

 He is sure that he did have a talk with Bruce where the other man had cried though. He himself hadn’t contributed much to that talk, just a few words here and there. But Bruce had been as honest with him as he had never before, so Jason was partly too shocked and too tired to say much.   

He also remembers Tim coming by, not saying a lot but admitting that it was him that told Dick to check on him the day before.

  Jason feels like yelling at him, but he doesn’t.

-

Bruce wants him to return to the manor for obvious reasons.  


 “No.”   The man pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jason, please.”

Jason sits up and pulls his sweater over his head.   “No, Bruce. My apartment is fine.”   


For his part, Bruce really does look upset, but Jason doesn’t want to go to the manor like this. He hasn’t been there for _years_ , and he doesn’t want his first visit to be because of something like this.

“No,” he says again. “Not yet. Please.” 

  Dick stands up from the chair next to Bruce and hands Jason his jacket. 

“I’m staying with you.”

Jason is too tired to argue.

-

He doesn’t know what he expected when he entered his bathroom, but somehow the shining tiles surprise him.

He must be staring for a few minutes, because Dick comes to stand behind him.

Jason turns around and raises a questioning brow.   

“Cass came over. She thought your fridge was too empty,” he explains.

Jason feels a rush of affection for her, but he doesn’t say anything.

He feels hungry, but he can’t bring himself to be awake for another minute.

He is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

 

**sunday**

Damian does not talk at all during the day. This itself is not that surprising, since he is not a boy of many words to begin with. But usually he prefers to occupy himself with things he deems more worthy of his time, such as reading a book way too mature for his age or working on his graphic novel he took a lot of interest in. Right now, however, he is just sitting on the couch, staring into the air. His black eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and if Bruce looks more closely he thinks he might see sweat dripping onto his dark skin. 

_For the first time he looks his age._

Bruce collects himself before addressing Damian.   “Are you ready to go?” 

His voice is steady, but he knows from the way Damian’s shoulders stiffen that he has picked up on his nervousness.

The young boy rises from the couch he was sitting on and nods.

When he passes his father, he speaks for the first time that day.

“We need to make another stop first.”

-

It should not surprise him to see Bruce in his living room when he looks up, but it somehow does.  


 This isn’t the first time Bruce has seen him since it happened but his father still looks at him with that pain on his face. 

  “Hello, Jason,” he greets him. His voice comes out almost as quiet as a whisper and for a second Jason wonders if he imagined it.  


 Jason doesn’t answer, but keeps looking at him.  


 Dick, who is still sitting next to him like the mother hen he is, motions for Bruce to sit down. 

Only after Bruce does sit down next to Tim on the couch, they can see that Damian was standing behind the big figure of his father.

The 11-year-old doesn’t look at Jason, but rather at a spot right above his head.  


 “Damian,” Bruce speaks up and Damian nods before moving slowly towards Jason who looks like a mess under the fleece blanket and in his worn out black hoodie.

He shifts the bundle in his arms a little before handing it over to Jason.  


 “For you,” Damian declares, his arms still extended.

Jason’s eyes widen a little bit in surprise and he hesitates for a moment before reaching out to accept Damian’s gift.  
 The puppy struggles a bit in Jason’s arms before finding a comfortable position. Jason looks down at his new companion in amazement, who returns his look. 

  “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Damian says.

Jason does not seem to hear him, his focus still on the little dog in his lap. When the animal rests his head on Jason’s arm and relaxes in his arms, Jason does the same. He leans back in the couch, his gaze still on the figure who is starting to close his eyes. Jason brings his arms closer to his body and presses the puppy against his chest, careful not to disturb him. 

Damian seems satisfied with that reaction, for he sits down next to his father. 

Dick, who looks close to tears, tears his attention away from Jason and smiles at Damian. 

_Thank you._

The youngest just shrugs and turns to look at the floor, playing with the sleeves of his pullover.

When Alfred comes out of the kitchen with a bowl full of soup and a plate full of waffles that Steph and Cass had left over an hour ago, Jason feels much more at peace.

-

Before they leave, Alfred asks him one more time to stay at the Manor with them, which Jason again declines. 

Tim hugs him for the first time in his life and continues to be that embarrassed about it that he leaves the apartment without meeting his gaze.

Damian promises to be back the next day with the necessary utilities for the puppy and Bruce even gets over himself to kneel down next to Jason on the couch to press a kiss on his head.   “I love you,” he murmurs, very quietly just to make sure only Jason hears it. 

Jason doesn’t say it back, but on the other hand, he doesn’t need to.

When everyone leaves, it’s only him and Dick in the apartment. 

Or so he thought.

Dick looks sheepish the way he is standing in the doorway. “I have to take care of something, at home. Um.” 

He steps from one foot to another and shuffles his keys in his hands. “I’ll be back later.”   


Jason, who didn’t need a babysitter in the first place doesn’t care particularly if Dick leaves him alone, just nods. “Okay.” It _is_ pretty suspicious of Dick though: Dick, who was so keen on not leaving Jason alone for more than 23 seconds ever since _it_ happened.  
Dick then leaves the room and two seconds later he hears the front door close. Jason shakes his head before turning his attention back on the puppy in his lap.

“Hey.” 

Jason is startled enough that he jumps so high, the blanket on his lap falls to the ground.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Roy steps closer into the room and stares at Jason as though seeing him for the first time.  


  _He looks the same,_ Jason thinks. _No matter how many things change, Roy stays the same._

In the past six months they hadn’t seen each other, Roy really hadn’t changed that much. His hair is shorter now, and he is wearing a shirt that Jason doesn't recognize, but apart from that he looks as he always did. The same warm eyes and the same friendly smile, even though it is a tentative one.

Roy sits down next to Jason and nods at the puppy in Jason’s lap, that the younger man had gripped tighter.

“I see you've found a new friend,” Roy offers.

“He doesn’t have a name yet,” Jason tells him, his voice a bit choked from the lump in his throat.

Roy’s smile slowly turns into a grin. “Is that so.”

_I might have made a mistake,_ Jason thinks when he notices Roy’s grin turning devilish.  


 He thinks living with a mistake like this is okay, though.

**Author's Note:**

> idk why but the thought of damian getting jason a service dog to heal was the cutest thing ever.
> 
> come yell at me on [tumblr](http://teddylupi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
